Many Happy Returns
by Zoe-kun
Summary: The best birthday present I'd ever had. Crack!fic. Cousincest. Written for the Crack Pairing Challenge.


**Written for the **_**Crack Pairing Challenge**_**. This pairing has always looked interesting, but I haven't been able to come up with a decent idea yet. So thank you to **alyssialui** at **_**Harry Potter Fanfiction Challenges**_** for giving me some prompts: **_chocolate cake _**and **_anger_. **Here it is, and please don't forget to review:**

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><p>Harry doesn't know, but I've been excited for his return from that magic school for a while now. Much longer than I'd be happy to admit, in fact. I might have been scared by his – abnormality? – when I was younger, but now I guess it's just the way he is. Part of what makes him himself.<p>

So when mum and dad said that they'd received a letter from him politely asking them to pick him up from King's Cross on the 22nd of June, I was quietly elated. They were disgruntled by receiving a letter by owl, but they wrote a letter back – out of sight from the neighbours, of course – then rolled it up and gave it to his beautiful white bird to send back to him in Scotland or wherever his school was.

That was beside the point, however. This was the day before my birthday. So he'd be back in time to celebrate it with us. Not that he'd be too pleased, but I was hoping that we might be able to break the habit of a lifetime, at least once. I knew Harry didn't technically have to stay with us anymore, as he was 17.

Bearing this in mind, I tried not to make myself too conspicuous when he got into the car on the day. I wore my usual expression of indifference and apathy, sparing just the occasional glance over to him when I could. The main reason for this was that I didn't want to make mum and dad too suspicious; after all, he'd been virtually shunned for the best part of 16 years, they'd get worried if I started being too friendly. As much as it pained me.

Getting out of the car, I saw him look up at the house with an indecipherable expression on his face; one that looked strangely like melancholy combined with ironic nostalgia. Why this was, I could only guess. So I used this chance to take his trunk and owl indoors and up to his bedroom.

When I got downstairs, my cousin greeted me with a raised eyebrow.

"What's the occasion, Dudley?"

"Nothing, nothing." I said as I pretended that I was deeply interested in a point beyond my toes, trying to move the attention away from me and my apparent change of heart. I went to the kitchen as quickly as I could, to avoid the moronic look that had spread across my face; vaguely similar to that of a child that had just been caught stealing sweets. I wasn't quick enough to miss the quizzical expression that Harry wore, I just wished that I could tell him that it would all become clear soon.

I spent that night questioning myself. _Why had my arrogant and obnoxious attitude towards Harry suddenly taken a wild turn? Why was I so excited that he was home in time to celebrate my birthday? _I didn't waste time trying to figure this out. I'd never spent too much time on thinking, mainly because thinking usually led to worrying – and that was boring.

The night of my birthday was weird, to say the least. It went as it usually did, with mum cutting the cake and dad moaning about the latest news headline; this one being about a little old lady phoning the police because someone stole her garden gnome. In the end, they both complained that they weren't hungry and went their separate ways. I didn't expect this. They were usually suspicious of Harry, watching his every move. But it left us alone, so I could finally clear the air and look into his eyes, his beautiful emerald eyes…

In the midst of my trance, I almost let him get away with having the first bit of cake. In any case, this just couldn't be tolerated. For a moment it could have been a scene from 10 years ago.

"It's _my _cake! _I _get the first slice!" I shouted at him, while it seemed to have no effect on Harry, who was slowly putting it towards his lips; an amused expression plastered across his face as he took a bite.

"Are you _deaf?! _I said it's _my _cake, get your hands off it –" and in the end, I let instinct kick in and reached across the table to try and use force, but Harry put paid to that plan.

"Shut up, Dudley," he said with a lazy tone to his voice, then put his mouth to mine, sending a not unwelcome jolt of electricity down my spine. The kiss was infused with the taste of chocolate cake, and I responded eagerly by pushing him harder against his chair, to which he responded with a groan which did nothing to help my mounting problem downstairs.

Feeling the need to breathe, I broke away with a smacking sound and looked into his eyes, not expecting in a million years to see what I saw; a glazed-over Harry with the biggest grin across his face.

"Happy birthday."

That was the best birthday present I'd ever had.

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><p><strong>P.S. Sorry for my weird use of irony, words had escaped me. And the word count is 844. Hope you enjoyed!<strong>


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